Halloa, Ben!" cried he, shaking a broad-backed fellow, equipped in a short-skirted doublet, and having a badge upon his arm,—"scullers wanted. Canton was something like a blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. “This is all rot!” he declared angrily. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. Wood.
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